The Happily Ever After
by silver ruffian
Summary: A Supernatural/Walking Dead AU crossover. My twisted version of what happened the night Negan captured Rick's group. It's a Winchester family reunion and Lucille is not pleased. Up now: Negan gives Angel!Dean a beatdown with Lucille.
1. eeny meany miny mo

_**A/N:**_ Story title taken from Negan's dialogue from The Walking Dead season 7 premiere: "Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together. Sitting around the table at Sunday dinner in the happily ever after. No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore."

Sorry, dude. At least in this story it does. I can't explain this fic and I'm not going to expand it either. Once it's done, it's done. It raises more questions than it answers and that's fine by me.

 ** _Warning:_** Negan cusses. A lot.

 _ **Summary:**_ A Supernatural/Walking Dead AU crossover. My twisted version of what happened the night Negan captured Rick's group. It's a Winchester family reunion and Lucille is not pleased.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1 – eeney meeny miney mo**_

"And you. Are. _I_ _t._ "

Negan smiles, wide and bright.

For a brief second Abraham wishes he could say goodbye, to Rick and Carl, to Daryl, Maggie, Michonne and Glenn, to Aaron, Rosita and Eugene. He knows he'll never have that chance. He doesn't want to divert Negan's attention to anyone else.

 _That's right, you lousy bastard,_ Abraham thinks as he stares up at his death. _Look at me. Nobody else._

Sasha's gaze prickles Abraham's skin. He doesn't look in her direction but the fingers of his left hand twitch as he makes the peace sign. Nobody else notices that.

Nobody but Sasha.

Her sharp intake of breath tells Abraham that she sees his hand signal. She understands. A deep sense of regret mixed with satisfaction floods through him.

 _Goodbye, darling. It's okay. Everything will be all right. I know you don't believe me, but it will be. It'll be okay. It will._

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father. And then we'll start. You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

Negan grips the bat with both hands. He raises it above his head. The downward stroke is unbelievably quick, as sure and as inevitable as death.

Abraham doesn't flinch. He keeps his eyes open. He doesn't blink. He's sure of that.

But he's still not sure what happened next.

* * *

 _Damn good choice,_ Negan thinks to himself.

Even on his knees Big Red still looks fucking dangerous. He's accepted his fate. If his death means that the others will live, so be it.

 _I knew that_ _oversized_ _fucker was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on 'im._ _Oh yeah, this is perfection_ _._

His two handed grip on Lucille is firm, steady. Her weight in his hands is the most natural thing in the world. Negan steps forward.

He raises Lucille in a sure, smooth motion. Negan puts both shoulders into the downward stroke, just like he's done at least a hundred times before. Blood spray, extreme pain and certain death is a foregone conclusion.

But this time it isn't.

The air between Negan and Red churns with black and golden light. The vibration in the air sets Negan's teeth on edge. The power is oh so familiar. Massive golden wings flare in the dim light and then fade away. Negan sees freckled skin, spiky dark blond hair.

 _Shit._

The clearing is quiet. No one breathes. Everyone is in shock.

The bastard in the black suit puts his right arm up to block Lucille. The impact travels down the bat into Negan's arms. His muscles shiver and ache right down to the bone. Red and orange sparks fly as hard wood and barbed wire makes contact with black clad flesh.

Negan sees the man flinch slightly. Pain flickers across those well-known features.

Lucille sings wordlessly inside Negan's head. She's happy.

That makes him smile.

In the next second those wide green eyes spark golden fire, intense and angry. _"_ _Enough!"_

The force in that voice lifts Negan off his feet. He tightens his grip on Lucille as he's hurled backwards. His knuckles turn white.

He won't let go of her. He can't.

Negan slams into the RV so hard the metal wall craters when he hits. The vehicle rocks from side to side.

Rick's group kneels in their places, frozen in disbelief. The Saviors react. They raise their guns and aim at the newcomer just as Negan slides down the side of the RV. He stumbles slightly as the soles of his feet touch the ground. He glares at his men and shakes his head. _No. Hold your fire._

They do as they're told.

Negan bares his teeth in a feral grin. "Dean."

The man in black nods. "Hi, Dad. Long time no see."

* * *

TBC


	2. catch a tiger by the toe

_**2 – catch a tiger by the toe**_

Daryl still doesn't believe the new guy appeared out of thin air. He doesn't waste any more time wondering about that.

A quick glance behind him and yeah, that bastard Dwight is only a few feet away. Sonofabitch has his grubby hands on Daryl's crossbow like it belongs to him. Behind him the Saviors stand armed at the ready as they watch Negan and the dude in black.

This is definitely fucked up.

Daryl puts his arms over his stomach, hangs his head and leans forward. Anybody watching would think that he's in pain, and that wouldn't far from wrong. So far Dwight doesn't see anything suspicious.

Good.

As he bends forward Daryl glances to his left. He catches Michonne's attention.

Abraham sees him.

So does Rick.

Daryl nods slightly. He says it all with a look: _I'm go_ _nna_ _jump Dwight. Get_ _my bow back and take his gun. I'll shoot the bastards_ _behind us_ _and you guys can make a break for it_ _-_

 _Don't do that. Wait._

The voice is definitely female. She sounds calm. Her voice echoes as though from a great distance.

She's inside his head. _She's inside their heads._

Startled, Rick jerks back. Everyone in his party has the same shocked, wide-eyed look. Who said that? What the hell is happening?

 _We're here to help. But it's taking us a little longer to pull ourselves together._

"We?" Rick blurts out.

Dwight growls. "Shut the hell up!"

Rick does. White noise buzzes and snaps in the space behind his eyes. It's as if a connection has been opened up inside their skulls. Everyone in his group is connected to each other.

 _I know this is a lot of ask, but you have to trust us._ _If you move now they'll shoot you_ _down._ _Wait for our signal._

 _Signal?_

She chuckles ruefully. _You'll know it when you see it._

* * *

 _"_ _It's over,"_ Dean says firmly. He sounded normal, almost friendly before. Now there's a vibration in his voice, an unmistakable power. _"Let him go."_

"No." Negan shakes his head. "Not...not a chance..."

He uses his free hand to push himself upright. When he straightens up his arm shakes and he falls back against the vehicle with a thump. His fingers twitch.

Lucille slips. Negan's fingers tighten again around the handle, but it's a loose grip. A look of confusion washes over his dark features. His smile fades.

"He's mine, little boy," Negan mutters. "Now and forever."

A tall, dark-haired female Savior standing near the RV makes her move. The sight of Negan stumbling to his feet pisses her off. With a snarl she reaches around to her back waistband and pulls out an automatic pistol.

As she raises her arm and takes aim Dean drops his gaze on her like a gunsight. The woman drops her weapon, clutches her throat and falls to the ground twitching.

Dean turns back to Negan. _"I said let him go."_

Negan blinks. "No...you're not real. You're...you're not here. I'm dreaming again..."

Dean's expression softens. "I'm here."

"Oh God,"Negan sobs. "God...I – I remember. That day in the woods. I remember...what I did to you. You and Mary."

He stares down at Lucille with a look of newfound revulsion. "Sammy tried to stop me. And I...I couldn't...couldn't stop myself." His throat hitches up and down.  
"Son...I'm sorry. I'm so...damned...sorry..."

"It's okay," Dean says quietly. "Let that bitch go, Dad. You're stronger than she is. I know you are."

Negan stumble-steps forward. His fingers twitch open.

Dean puts his hand out. "It's time for you to come home."

Lucille falls to the ground.

Negan falls to his knees. The fingers of his right hand shake as he reaches out. "Dean...please...help me..."

Dean does. He goes to his wayward father, kneels down and puts his right arm around his back.

"I'm sorry...I never meant to hurt...God, what have I done?" Negan leans into Dean. The younger man steadies himself as he takes on the full weight of the older man and rises to his feet.

Negan raises his left arm. Something hard punches into Dean's chest.

 _Damn..._ _I feel weird..._

Dean glances down at himself. The wooden handle of the knife in his chest rises and falls with each labored breath he takes. Wrapped around the hilt is a length of barbed wire. Barbed wire twines around the razor sharp blade sunk deep inside Dean's skin.

Negan smiles as he leans forward and whispers into the shell of Dean's right ear. "Are we having fun yet? I sure am. I got you, son. _I got you._ "

Dean's knees buckle. He falls forward as Negan lets go and steps back. The heat in his chest spreads. Dean puts both arms out to break his fall. He lands in a clumsy sprawl of arms and legs. Gold and blue light seeps out of the wound.

"You came here because you want your daddy back. That's just so fucking adorable!" Negan leans down and picks up Lucille. He places the shaft of the bat casually across his right shoulder. That bright smile widens as he rocks back and forth on his boot heels. He's pretty damned pleased with himself.

"You got stamina to spare, kiddo, but you always were light in the brains department. You really think you can make me give up my dirty girl?" Negan lifts Lucille up triumphantly as he raises both arms out to his sides. "She freed me!"

"...n-nuh...no," Dean chokes out as he struggles upright again. He shakes his head and incredibly enough, despite the pain that washes over him, bares his teeth. Dean looks wild. Defiant. "She...she made you...her bitch."

"Language, son. Language." Negan steps in close. "Deja vu, huh? " He brings Lucille down on the top of Dean's head.

Hard wood cracks against flesh and bone.

Dean doesn't bleed red. His skin tears. Golden light streams out of his head wound. He pitches forward, but he doesn't stay down. Somehow he pushes himself upright again.

"Look at that!" Negan crows. "Takin' it like a champ!"

Lucille comes down again.

TBC


	3. if he hollers let him go

_**Summary:**_ Negan gives Angel!Dean a beatdown with Lucille.

 _ **Chapter 3 – if he hollers let him go**_

 _WHUMP!_

The crack of the bat echoes in the night air, closely followed by the sharp, bright sound of bone breaking. Red sparks fly into the air. Dean's skin flares with bluish gold light. Long jagged splinters of white bone protrude through the skin at the back of his neck. His body rocks back, then settles down onto his knees.

Negan grunts as he tightens his two handed grip. He lifts Lucille high over his head and brings her down again.

The air blazes red. That wild golden light in Dean's eyes flickers and then goes dark. A large gash stitches from the middle of the top of his head, down his forehead and across the bridge of his nose. Dean's head lolls forward at an odd, sideways angle, chin to chest. More bluish gold light leaks out of his head wound and neck; the corona resembles a halo.

Negan leans in and stares at Dean's face. "Well, damn, son! You look like a fucking lightning bug!"

Dean's black suit is splattered with droplets of bluish gold light. "Well," Negan amends, "a big ol' smashed lightning bug."

Dean doesn't answer. His face is curiously blank, eyes vacant and unseeing, his head cocked slightly to one side, as though he's listening to Negan.

Or someone else.

* * *

 _Dean, we're coming -_

 _S-stay there. Wait…_

 _Dean, please-_

 _...you're...not...strong enough. Sammy's not right yet either. Wait..._

 _You left too soon. You should've waited-_

 _Story of my life. 'm okay._

 _You're not-_

 _Wait, Mom. You...have...to..._

 _Dean?_

…

* * *

"Hey! You got a little smush right there." Negan helpfully gestures at the knife in Dean's chest. "Lemme help you with that."

With his bare left hand Negan grabs the hilt of the knife, tightens his grip and yanks it out. A small cloud of golden light pushes out into the dark air, then fades. Dean jerks forward, then settles back onto his knees. His eyes remain closed, his face slack and unresponsive.

The knife blade and the barbed wire wrapped around it glow. Negan sneers at the light. He wipes the knife blade off on Dean's left shoulder. Clothing rips as the barbed wire digs in. The captured light fades away.

"That's better." Negan nods, satisfied. "You can have that shit back."

Dean's halo gutters like a flame in a high wind. The light sinks back underneath his clothing. His skin glows from within, a mellow golden shine that bleaches out his freckles as it slowly blinks out. The jagged scar and the bruises on his face don't fade away, but the bone at the nape of his neck pushes back underneath his skin again. A dark bruise forms over the spot.

Dean blinks. He opens his eyes, raises his head.

"Awww, whatsamatter, princess?" Negan coos. "You want me to kiss your booboo and make it better?"

Wide green eyes filled with bluish gold light lock onto gleeful, malicious brown ones. The look on Dean's face can be summed up in three gloriously defiant words:

 _FUCK. YOU. BITCH._

"Not the look I want to see, Dean!" Negan yells out. Lucille comes down again. Bluish golden light flares with the impact. Red sparks fly up into the air again.

Dean goes down. As he pushes himself back up Negan hits him in the head again. More red sparks. Another flare of light from Dean, this one weaker than the first. It fades out before Dean takes his next breath.

Negan steps in and in quick succession delivers six more blows. Each time Lucille hits she takes more of Dean's light away from him. With each blow the red sparks become brighter, stronger. Dean's light grows dimmer. The last blow forces him back on his knees. Negan steps back as Dean falls forward. He hits the ground hard. A thick cloud of grey dust rises up. His light fades.

Negan sighs as he lifts Lucille up and casually rests her on his right shoulder. "Now see what you made me do? I don't want to kill you, Dean. I don't. You were The Good Son. You stayed after that freakishly tall piece of shit ran off to college chasing normal." Negan barks out a laugh. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Normal. This damn family has always been anything but."

The man definitely loves the sound of his own voice. He flashes another devilish grin as he walks back and forth swinging Lucille at his side. "Those were good times, y'know? You did whatever I wanted. You never gave me any crap. You were loyal. Downright lethal. Daddy's little blunt instrument."

Negan playfully thumps Lucille on the ground several times. Dean doesn't react. "You may as well face facts. This father son thing between us? It's never gonna go away. But it doesn't have to be this bad, y'know? Speaking of which, how's that big damn hero gig working out for you, by the way?"

No answer.

"That bad, huh? Thought so." Negan walks up to Dean. He doesn't wait for a reply. "Get up. _Now, Dean._ "

Dean moves. It's pretty damn painful to watch. After a few false starts he pushes himself up with his arms. His body shakes and several times he face plants into the ground. It's as though he's forgotten how to move and is learning how all over again. He's too weak to stand on his feet. The best he can do is crouch there on his hands and knees with his head down. Each breath he takes makes his throat hitch and his chest rattle.

"Look at me, boy."

His master's voice. Dean raises his head. There's no defiance in those wide green eyes, just hurt and submission.

And a bright red glow.

"So Lucille got your mind right, huh? Now _that's_ how you should look at dear old Dad." Negan chuckles. "Nothing but love and respect. Outstanding!"

Negan reaches down and ruffles Dean's hair. He smiles when Dean leans into his touch. "All is forgiven. We're family again. Better than before. You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me."

Dean head bobs up and down, but he doesn't say anything. Negan's smile fades, only to be replaced by a thunderous scowl.

"Sound off, junior," Negan snarls. "SPEAK!"

Dean flinches. That harsh tone is like a whip against his skin. Words come out of him in a rush. "I answer to you..I work for you..."

"And?"

"I...I belong to you."

"Good boy." Negan pats Dean on the head again. The gesture isn't affection. It's ownership.

The wind picks up. Trees sway gently. Moving air rustles the grass in every increasing waves. Everyone in the clearing squints against clouds of dust and grit.

They blink, and suddenly _she's_ there.

Dean doesn't react. He stares into space, red-eyed and blank, at something only he can see.

Mary Winchester's golden light crackles angrily in the air around her, a fitting contrast to the form fitting black suit she wears. "I want my family back, you loathsome bitch."

Negan fists the front of Dean's suit and pulls him to his feet. Dean is limp, a broken puppet doll with his strings cut. They stand belly to belly, almost nose to nose. The leader of the Saviors rumbles laughter, deep and mocking. "Uh oh, it's the old ball and chain. I'm in deep shit now!"

* * *

TBC this week


End file.
